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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 112 из 293His face and most of the front of his body was bare and pale and as moonlight, like my own skin. It made the brown and gold of the fur look darker by contrast. With his armor and cloak, he could almost have passed for a human, except for the eyes. They were a reddish brown, a color that could have been human but wasn’t. They weren’t sidhe eyes either, but those of an animal of some kind. I’d found a picture in a book once, a two-page close-up of the eyes of a bear. Staring at the picture I knew I’d seen those eyes in Arzhel’s face.
“It is not a spell,” Frost said. “We would feel it.”
Arzhel nodded. “Have you searched for it?”
“I have.”
“As have I,” said Crystall, his voice like chimes in the wind. He was still hidden behind his white cloak.
“Use the oil on them,” I said. “Ears, eyes, mouth, hands, the works.”
Arzhel asked, “The works?”
“The princess means to make certain they can function completely unaffected by the sithen,” Rhys said, undoing his trench coat and taking a small stoppered bottle from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He worked the stopper out of the dark clay bottle, then stood in front of Dr. Polaski. He asked her to take her glasses off, but it was as if she couldn’t hear him, and maybe she couldn’t. He took her glasses gently off her face. She blinked at him as he touched one eye just below the brow. “That you may see truly,” he said. She jerked back from him, then stared around at the walls. She covered her eyes with her hands. “Oh, God, oh, God, what’s happening to me?”
“Let me do the other eye, and you’ll feel better,” Rhys said. “Just keep them closed until I’m done.”
He had to push her hands down from her face, but she kept her eyes closed. He touched the other eyelid, and said, “To see truly.” He pushed her hair back from her ears, and traced the oil down the curve of one ear, and then the other, with the words “That you may hear truly.”
“The music stopped,” she said, and tears began to seep out from her closed lids.
He touched her lips. “So you may speak truly of what you find.” He put her hands palm up. “So you may touch and be touched truly.” He knelt and traced the tops of her snow-soaked boots. “So you may step truly and know what lies before you.” He stood in front of her, and laid the last touch to her forehead. “So you may know and think truly.” He did more than just touch there; there he laid a protective symbol. For a moment I saw the flare of magic trace the cool spiral and circle on her forehead, then it sank into her skin.
“It is not a spell,” Frost said. “We would feel it.”
Arzhel nodded. “Have you searched for it?”
“I have.”
“As have I,” said Crystall, his voice like chimes in the wind. He was still hidden behind his white cloak.
“Use the oil on them,” I said. “Ears, eyes, mouth, hands, the works.”
Arzhel asked, “The works?”
“The princess means to make certain they can function completely unaffected by the sithen,” Rhys said, undoing his trench coat and taking a small stoppered bottle from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He worked the stopper out of the dark clay bottle, then stood in front of Dr. Polaski. He asked her to take her glasses off, but it was as if she couldn’t hear him, and maybe she couldn’t. He took her glasses gently off her face. She blinked at him as he touched one eye just below the brow. “That you may see truly,” he said. She jerked back from him, then stared around at the walls. She covered her eyes with her hands. “Oh, God, oh, God, what’s happening to me?”
“Let me do the other eye, and you’ll feel better,” Rhys said. “Just keep them closed until I’m done.”
He had to push her hands down from her face, but she kept her eyes closed. He touched the other eyelid, and said, “To see truly.” He pushed her hair back from her ears, and traced the oil down the curve of one ear, and then the other, with the words “That you may hear truly.”
“The music stopped,” she said, and tears began to seep out from her closed lids.
He touched her lips. “So you may speak truly of what you find.” He put her hands palm up. “So you may touch and be touched truly.” He knelt and traced the tops of her snow-soaked boots. “So you may step truly and know what lies before you.” He stood in front of her, and laid the last touch to her forehead. “So you may know and think truly.” He did more than just touch there; there he laid a protective symbol. For a moment I saw the flare of magic trace the cool spiral and circle on her forehead, then it sank into her skin.